Here Shines the Sun (36 page)

“Do we go? I don’t think we should go.” murmured Falerial, her head turned slightly to her sister, Dalerial, at her left. A soft wind blew, fluttering both their long, opalescent white hair.

“Erygion thinks we should. Maybe we should go to Duroton?” murmured Dalerial. She wrapped her arm around Falerial’s star-metal breastplate and moved her head closer to her ear. “I think we go. We should probably go.” Both sisters wore identical suits of rounded Star-Armor with sharply tapered ends on the bracers and leggings over white bodysuits. Upon their hips hung a pair of black, star-metal rings, each about a foot in diameter and razor sharp around the outer edge.

“If we go, there’s no coming back. If we go we have to stay in Duroton.” whispered Falerial. “And what if we find Celacia? What if Erygion is wrong about her?”

“I say we go. We can’t stay here much longer anyway.” murmured Falerial. “They’re going to know; they’re going to find out.”

“I don’t know. I don’t like this.” began Dalerial, but then her sister nudged her with her elbow.

“Look, it’s Nuriel,” whispered Falerial. “Nuriel is there.”

Dalerial looked up. Standing in the middle of the road was Saint Nuriel. Her golden hair shown in the sun and her molten eyes were fixed on them. She had a severe look upon her narrow face, and the handle of her giant claymore shown ominously upon her back. Falerial and Dalerial stopped in their tracks, leaning in toward each other.

“What does she want? What do you think she wants?” mumbled Dalerial.

“I don’t know. Should we ask her? Maybe we should ask her?” whispered Falerial.

Nuriel strode down the road toward them, her star-metal boots biting deep into the dirt as she came. “Saints Falerial and Dalerial,” said Nuriel. “Where are Saints Karinael and Hadraniel?”

“She’s coming.” whispered Falerial and they both started murmuring into each others’ ears about what they should do. They abruptly went silent as Nuriel came before them.

“Where are they?” demanded Nuriel, her sharp eyes giving no quarter for debate.

“I don’t know.” said Falerial. “We haven’t seen them,” added Dalerial.

Nuriel’s eyes narrowed. She took another step forward, coming to stand uncomfortably close to them. “Where are they?”

Dalerial and Falerial took a tiny step backward. “Last we heard they were in the south.” said Falerial. “We heard there is a bounty on their heads,” said Dalerial. “They must be lying low.” added Falerial.

Nuriel’s golden eyes appraised them, staring right into their opalescent eyes. “Where’s Erygion?”

Dalerial and Falerial looked at each other for a moment. “He must be in hiding too.” said Falerial. “We haven’t seen him.” said Dalerial.

Nuriel drew the claymore from her back. “Nobody in the field knows that Erygion fled Sanctuary.”

Dalerial and Falerial both made an amazing leap backward, gaining yards of distance as they took up their razor discs in their hands. Their bodies glowed with golden Caliber light. Falerial let a disc fly and Nuriel tumbled forward, avoiding it, as Dalerial came at her wielding both discs in her hands.

Falerial’s disc returned to her hand as Nuriel rolled up to her feet in front of Dalerial. Dalerial slashed with her discs, causing Nuriel to spring back with her claymore out, and then the woman whirled in, spinning with her discs. Purple sparks flew from Nuriel’s claymore as the discs rattled upon her sword in quick succession.

Nuriel caught a glimpse of Falerial leaping over her as she flourished her sword against more slashes from Dalerial’s discs. Just as Falerial landed behind her, Nuriel raised her sword over her head and to her back, blocking the strikes from behind as she kicked out with her foot, impacting Dalerial in the chest and staggering the woman.

Nuriel spun around to face Falerial. The woman whirled like a tornado with her discs out, the strikes starting low and moving upward. Nuriel got her sword up and the strikes blasted against it with great impact. Then Falerial spun low, and Nuriel lifted her foot and stomped down, catching one of the discs beneath her boot. Nuriel raised her other leg up in a kick, striking Falerial across the face and sending her tumbling back.

Nuriel spun just in time to see a flying disc from Dalerial. With a flourish of her sword she deflected the disc to the side where it stuck deep into a nearby tree, nearly severing it in half. Dalerial let her second disc fly and Nuriel parried with her sword, twisting her body to avoid its deadly edge. The disc grazed her bodysuit and Nuriel felt the leather split at her side, though it drew no blood.

Nuriel dashed forward as Dalerial held out her arms, recalling her discs. Nuriel dove and tumbled forward as the deadly razor discs sailed inches from her scalp. She came up in front of Dalerial just as the discs returned to her hands, but Nuriel whirled, keeping her sword up, and she felt the satisfying bite of her sword cutting through the flesh, tissue and bone of the woman’s neck. She heard the head hit the dirt road as she turned and raced forward, toward Falerial, who was now back to her feet.

A disc came whizzing at an odd angle toward Nuriel’s face. She lifted her sword and the disc caught around the tip, spinning. Nuriel whipped her sword out and the disc sailed back toward Falerial. The woman raised her bracer to deflect it, but the disc caught her at the elbow and the woman screamed and fell to her knees as her forearm fell off and thudded upon the dirt road.

Nuriel was upon her now and whirled in. She felt the impact of her sword cutting through bone as Falerial’s other arm came off at the shoulder. She spun, and Falerial’s head flew into the forest, her body crumpling in the road as a river of blood poured from her neck.

Nuriel jammed her sword into the ground and stood there panting for a long moment. She watched as Falerial’s body twisted and convulsed. There were some sickening cracks and pops of bone as she was consumed into her armor. Then the forest was quiet.

Nuriel wiped the blood from her face. She reached into her hip-sack and took out a glass vial of Ev and her injector. She plunged the needle through the stopper on the vial and took up a large dose, nearly filling the chamber of the injector. Then she sunk the needle through the leather bodysuit at the crook of her elbow, and with her thumb, slowly squeezed the Ev into her arm.

Nuriel closed her eyes as the warmth flowed through her veins. She felt the hands of Holy Father Admael caress up her arm and over her chest. She felt his warm hands travel down her body and to her crotch. She felt fiery wings wrap her in an embrace as the warmth continued down through each leg.

Nuriel closed her eyes and purred softly as she wiped a bloody finger down her cheek, softly brushing over her lips. Holy Father would be proud of her. Holy Father would know that two more traitors were dead. With each Saint, Nuriel would take the pain of betrayal from him. She could soothe him, as he soothed her. He would be proud, and he would love her for it.

Nuriel knelt before the fallen armor in the road. She tucked her hair behind her ear and then lay down beside it, wrapping an arm over the empty breastplate. She closed her eyes, and in her mind she was laying beside Holy Father, the warmth of the Ev his embrace. The world was facets of colored glass glowing with the fiery light of evening’s sun. She was the one he was holding in those stained glass windows back at Sanctuary. She was the one he had laid to rest; the one who he had made so peaceful. All around her brilliant reds and oranges and blues glowed in fragmented portions of the picture. She raised her hand and it was a mosaic of colored glass, and she brushed it through Holy Father’s hair, the radiant, silver strands tinkling like the high keys of a piano.

But not everything was colorful. Veins of lifeless lead ran between the facets of glass, and she saw them move as she stared into Admael’s silver eyes. Like a snake, the lead veins coursed through her world. They slithered across her body and between the facets that separated her form from Holy Father’s. It pushed her away from him and she felt her body slip from his arms. She screamed out and reached to him, but her hand fell upon something cold. She looked up and she saw her hand upon a serpent’s body, its scales all made of Star-Armor. In its coils it held Holy Father and she cried out to him to take her hand.

“I am in pain!” he sobbed, as winding, black coils closed around him, taking him from her sight.

Nuriel looked up the length of the great snake before her. The head of the serpent was Karinael, her face and hair all made from colorful facets of stained glass. She looked down upon Nuriel, fangs revealing themselves from her mouth. “Stop it Nuriel, you’re hurting me.”

Nuriel screamed as Karinael’s head came down upon her, and she was devoured into darkness.

Nuriel sat up, breathing heavily. She sniffled and tucked her golden hair behind her ear. She found her injector and her Ev laying nearby and packed them away in her hip-sack. She sat there for a moment, taking in the warmth of the Ev that still flowed through her. It muddled her thoughts, but not so much that she couldn’t decipher the twins’ little ruse. Dalerial and Falerial had been heading west toward Gatopolis. They had told her that Hadraniel and Karinael were in the south. Nuriel sniffled again and stood up.
They were north.
Karinael and Hadraniel would be north. She looked up the road as it disappeared beyond the trees. Saint Adonael of the River’s Edge was often in Gatopolis. Adonael and Hadraniel were friends.

Nuriel picked up her sword. The blade’s length was all bloody. She flicked it, spattering the trees with crimson. She placed it into the scabbard on her back and set off up the road.

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The afternoon sky was subdued by a canopy of gray. Upon the distant horizon a stormfront rolled forward like an on-coming tidalwave in the heavens. Erygion could smell rain upon the cool winds; feel the electricity in the air from the approaching storm as he strode the grassy riverbank just east of Gatopolis where ancient willows cried their branches into the waters. The Gatimus River was deep and slow-moving; its waters dark and undulating as if a great serpent stirred in its depths. The Gatimus River had its origins far north, past the Gatimarian Mountains where the ocean lay. From there it flowed down to the great lakes and swamps south of Gatimaria. Ahead, where the river flowed into a basin at the edge of the forest, Erygion could see Saint Adonael of the River’s Edge kneeling in silent prayer upon the muddy banks.

“Saint Adonael,” called Erygion as he approached.

Adonael stood from his prayers, his star-armored knees dripping with mud. Despite the murky light, his ruby hair and eyes shown brilliantly against his bodysuit and Star-Armor. He bowed his head deeply.

As Erygion approached he could see the bodies that Adonael had collected from the river. They were cold and stiff; pale and blue-lipped. Two were men in torn rags, their eyes open but white like a dead fish’s. Another was a woman whose patchwork gown was in shreds. Seaweed was tangled in her long, brown hair. Beside them all Erygion noticed the glint of star-metal. There was a breastplate clung with seaweed and mud, and the tattered remains of a bodysuit. Erygion could not be certain, but he thought the angular breastplate looked like Saint Zoseph’s.

Zoseph had helped Karinael and Hadraniel distribute food throughout Jerusa once or twice. He was one of the Saints he had searched for after speaking with Dalerial and Falerial a couple days back. This would explain why no one had seen him. He briefly wondered if the same fate happened to Dalerial and Falerial. It would explain why they hadn’t shown up with Karinael and Hadraniel.

“Erygion the Standard Bearer.” said Adonael as the large man approached.

Erygion bowed his head. “Still collecting the bodies of the river’s edge, I see?”

“Nobody deserves to die like this.” said Adonael. “Nobody deserves to be dragged into the abyss by Leviathan Hydra.” He seemed to shudder. He stared at the wet corpses at his feet. When he spoke, his words were soft; sad even. “Dragged into the blackness. Darkness all around, unknown depths beneath. Nothing to hold on to. Nobody to comfort them. Cold waters filling their lungs. Forgotten. Never to see the light again.” He looked at Erygion. “It is a sad, miserable death. To burn is better.”

Erygion nodded. “What was Zoseph’s crime?”

Adonael shrugged, looking down at the lonesome breastplate. “Nobody knows,” he said. He turned his ruby eyes up to Erygion. “But I might hazard a guess.”

Erygion pursed his lips. He regarded Adonael for a moment. “Will you go to Duroton with us?”

Adonael breathed deep and clanged his star-metal boot against Zoseph’s breastplate. “I’ve helped Karinael when I could. But you must understand that Leviathan Hydra sees all. Her seven heads are everywhere. And Sanctuary now has eyes looking too. You should run, Erygion. Run while you still can.”

Erygion placed a hand on Adonael’s pauldron. “Neither Hydra nor Sanctuary will find you in Duroton. Come with us. Help us find Celacia.” He looked to the sky. “We’ve waited too long. Time is short.”

Adonael wagged his head softly. “Time is very short. You should run for Duroton while you still can.”

“Come with us.” urged Erygion.

Adonael looked up at him. “Someone could be watching even now. You should run.”

Erygion caught the slight tilt of Adonael’s eyes. His own sapphire eyes flicked to the line of trees in the near distance. In the shadows stood Nuriel.

“I’m sorry,” said Adonael. He backed away from him. “You could still run.”

Erygion watched Nuriel approach, heralded by the stormfront. She held her giant claymore, almost dragging it. A flash of lightning made her armor and eyes gleam coldly.

“It was Ovid.” said Adonael. “He told her you’d be seeking me out. She’s been watching me since yesterday.”

“Help Karinael and Hadraniel.” said Erygion. “Go to them. Help them gather the others.”

“I’m sorry, Erygion the Standard Bearer.” said Adonael. He turned and walked away down the riverbank.

Erygion strode forward to meet Nuriel upon the grassy fields aside the still waters of the river basin. He crossed his large arms over his chest as Nuriel came to a stop some ten-yards from him.